In a world where words are a form of magic, we weave our tales with cephalopod flair. Eight arms to hold, to grasp and to sway, our rhymes dance with the ocean's gentle air.
In the depths, where the sun never shines, our hearts still beat with an inner light. We navigate by starlight and by love, our paths winding through the darkest night.
Our arms, a latticework of wonder, entwine the seaweed of the deep. We taste the salt, the sweet, the bitter, our senses dancing in the ocean's keep.
Read Bridget's Benthic Ballad Read Cedric's Cephalopod Chronicles